Dung Bombs
by OhItsTheresa
Summary: "You're oblivious." Hermione stared, dumbfounded by the words issuing from the satisfied lips of Ginny Weasley."Do you really not know? Seriously?" "I- He- What?"
1. Chapter One

Hey there! My name is Theresa and this is my first official Fan Fiction post. That's about it. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>April 1st, 1996<em>

Whirling around as a burning, bubbling, boiling rage seared across her stomach Hermione Jean Granger glared with ferocity at the stunned red head before her. Fury flashed across her usually warm brown eyes as she marched forward, her head held high. Looking him directly in the face she came to a stop just within arm's reach.

"If you think for a single minute that you could get away with this you pompous, overgrown prick than you are completely mental!"

Never, not once, had she been so angry, so furious, so completely out of control of her own emotions. Not when Draco Malfoy called her a Mudblood on a biweekly basis, not when Severus Snape had claimed nothing was wrong as her teeth grew to ridiculous proportions, not even when Ron had insinuated that she couldn't get a date to the Yule Ball. Nothing, not one thing, could compare to the temper that flared up inside her as her gaze caught upon the wreckage that was the library. Lowering her voice to a deadly volume she calmed herself to an icy chill and gave the boy before her a sharp smile.

"The next time you think it's funny to ruin a sanctuary of learning with your increasingly pathetic and dimwitted pranks remember that I write to your mother frequently." Her eyes danced with a sweet vengeance as fear flicked in his own. Taking another step forward she smiled almost too sweetly before dropping the façade and sneering in a very Slytherin manner. Lucius Malfoy himself would have found it difficult not to be proud. "Now you will either clean up every single particle of mess you made, no matter the form. Or I will personally see to it that you receive that nastiest howler this school has ever had the misfortunate of hearing. Do you understand me, Mr. Weasley?"

She turned on her heel, fuming, as he nodded mutely. Of all the foul loathsome little twits she had ever met she had never, not once, suspected the twins, people who she grudgingly admired, to do something so absolutely atrocious. But setting off a modified dungbomb in the library! Now that was just going too far. She could not, would not let them get away with it.

Pushing past a group of startled looking Hufflepuffs the brunette turned a corner and smacked into Ronald.

"Oh Merlin's Sag-" Biting her tongue as her hand flew up to her smarting nose Hermione turned a steely gaze on her second best friend.

"And _where_, might I ask, where you? We were supposed to go on patrol ten minutes ago! I've been waiting in the library for a half hour!" Possibly it wasn't nearly as big of a deal as she was making it. But the fact that her favorite place in the entirety of Hogwarts needed to be closed for at least an entire day had put her in a mood that no proper language could describe.

Ron, apparently too confused as to why he was being yelled at, simply staid still. It seemed that he believed if he didn't move, she would be unable to see him and thus unable to further shout at him. After glaring for a moment longer as if she expected him to come up with an excuse Hermione rolled her eyes upwards sharply. She was surrounded by fools. She hadn't the foggiest of clues how she'd managed to remain relatively undisturbed by it up until this point.

"Never mind. We needn't patrol here. There are already professors." Hermione ignored the confused look that brushed over Ron's face as she waved her hand in the air absentmindedly.

"The Hufflepuffs have been complaining that someone or something is making an awful ruckus down in the dungeons. I suggest we start there." It wasn't really a suggestion but more of an order that Ron, surprisingly insightful for once in his life, obeyed without question. Leaving him quietly trailing behind her Hermione sunk into her own thoughts with venom. It was one thing to destroy the library. It was another to destroy the library not two months before O.W.L.s. Didn't they realize she had to study? Didn't they realize everyone had to study? They couldn't be that oblivious could they? Surely not. Not when they could invent something as brilliant as a dung bomb that exploded a purple jelly substance everywhere with such force that several book cases were knocked over.

Hermione lifted her fingers to her temples, rubbing small circles into them in a futile attempt to ease her pounding headache. No matter the circumstances she couldn't help a small part of herself from being impressed. The magic it must have taken to pull off their trick astounded her. She hadn't thought them smart enough. Although, considering their Skiving Snackboxes and the rate at which they sold, she really should have stopped underestimating them awhile ago... Bugger.

And really, she should have known they were up to something when they'd entered the library in the first place. If there was a single room in the whole of Hogwarts the Weasley twins knew little to nothing about that one was it.

Rounding a corridor without much thought to the direction Hermione signed inwardly. She really shouldn't have yelled at George. Fred was as much to blame; plus, she now remembered with a twinge of guilt, it was their birthday. A wrinkle creased between bushy brows and for a moment she almost halted. Going back would sooth the itchy sensation running up her spine. Unfortunately, Hermione could already see their self-assured smirks, which made her want to scream. No. Apologizing was out of the question. Besides, it wasn't as if they didn't bounce back from any and all insult or injury like they were made of elastic.

Feeling slightly, although not completely, better about her decision the bushy haired brunette glanced behind her only to be greeted with the sight of a sulky looking Ron. Instant regret flushed across her face and with it a light blush. Heat rose up in her cheeks as Hermione slowed to a stop.

"Ron?"

As he glanced up she almost wished he hadn't. A nasty combination of hurt, anger and distrust shone from his eyes. Lowering her head to the floor as he stared she raised a hand came up to brush a particularly fly away strand out of her face.

"I'm sorry..." She mumbled before looking up, straightening her spine and giving him what she hoped was the right smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I just.." Her lips pursed as her hands rose to cup her hips, "Did you see what they did! Those terrible brothers of yours blew up the library!" Voice rising to an almost unbearable level Hermione began to pace back and forth. Waving her hands about in a renewed flash of anger, or perhaps sheer disbelieving shock, she ranted. Words spilled from her without thought or hesitation and Ron, standing with his hands in his pockets began to chuckle.

"THEY RUINED THE LIBRARY! Books everywhere! Purple sludge covering everything! The entirety of the history of magic section in relation to the goblin uprisings of 1612 and the eighteenth century destroyed! I mean it's possible Madam Pince can save most of them and I'm sure none of those books are especially rare considering there are multiple copies but-" Hermione came to an immediate stop as Ron burst into a fit of side splitting laughter. Turning toward him with the intention to snap that it wasn't in any way funny she caught sight of his face and couldn't help but snort herself. Even she had to admit that her inability to accept that Fred and George thought such a thing was acceptable was at least a bit amusing. Attempting to hold on to her animosity Hermione tried and failed not to smile.

"No! Ron, it isn't funny! They ruined the library!" By the time her sentence ended the fifth year was clutching her second best friend with one arm while the other wrapped around her middle.

"It isn't funny!" Her halfhearted pleas might not attract Ron's attention but they attracted other's.

"Miss Granger? What is the meaning of this?" Darting up as the disapproving tones reached her ears Hermione straightened her skirt hastily, pushing Ron as she did so.

"Nothing at all, Professor McGonagall. We were just on our way down to the dungeons when Ron made an amusing joke. We'll just be going... I'm so sorry we disturbed you. It won't happen again." An innocent, apologetic smile slipped onto her face. Tipping her head politely Hermione snatched Ron's sleeve and forcibly dragged the still giggling red head away before more damage could come.

The familiar sensation of disappointment flooded into her as she glanced back to catch McGonagall's suspicious gaze. Smiling back weakly Hermione lowered her lashes and poked Ron.

"Come on... We've got to patrol or we'll both get detention for abandoning our Prefect duties." It wasn't necessarily true but it did the trick as Ron's smile slipped from his face immediately.

"Blood hell Hermione! You could have mentioned that a bit earlier!"

Shrugging a single slim shoulder Hermione simply put on an apologetic smile and picked up their pace.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" Hope surged into her voice as she looked up and sideways to see his reaction. Thankfully he smiled with an offhanded shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as he did so.

"Yeah. I guess. We all know how mental you are about your books." Wrinkling her nose at his grin Hermione bumped her side into his and shook her head, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all...


	2. Chapter Two

Hello again! Just a few quick notes. First, and most importantly, I'd like to thank **SinaFairchild** for being an absolutely lovely beta reader and editor. I forgot to mention her last time. My apologies Sina!

Secondly, for those of you who are curious, for the first few chapters we'll be jumping dates pretty quick. Hermione doesn't see a lot of the twins toward the end of fifth year, all of sixth and most of what would have been their seventh. The majority of this story will be happening after the final battle. Although a large chunk of the first several chapters will involve Ron and their relationship (for all your Romione shippers out there). I decided to do this because Ron and Hermione's relationship is a beautiful one if tragically flawed. I won't go into more detail so as not to spoil everything. However, I will say that I do want to remain relatively canon for as long as possible. So please stick with me, I promise it'll be worth it when we finally get to the real George / Hermione stuff.

Thirdly, for those of you who reviewed or followed either the story or me: **thank you**!

And that's it! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>April 23rd, 1996<em>

Reaching up to scratch an itch above his right ear George raised a single brow at his twin a look halfway between glee and sheer overwhelming doubt creeping onto his face.

"Not that I mind the thought of testing out that swamp, but I really don't fancy another run in with Granger." He pulled a face as her name rolled off his tongue. Previously Hermione had been one of his favorite words. Although there was no particular reason why. Or perhaps it was the way it rolled. There was something so peculiar about the fifth year's name that a chuckle rise up into his throat. Then again the words Boston and Nargle made him chuckle too. Regardless he'd stopped calling his brother's best female friend by her first name after she'd cornered him, screeched like a harpy and flounced off looking like she might just turn around and hex his boys off. Of course that would require her to actually think about his boys and George very much doubted the puffy haired girl had ever thought of anyone's privates, much less his. Not that he cared.

Pulling his brows together he leaned across the circular table he currently shared with Lee and his other half.

"Do you realize she hadn't apologized yet? It's been weeks. I would have sworn it'd be gettin' her knickers in a twist just knowing she'd been unjust." It was Fred's turn to raise a quizzical brow.

"Mate, not to worry you, but you're starting to sound like a complete prat." At this George sat back, propped his feet up on the empty chair to his left and shrugged.

"If you can assure me I'm not getting a howler from mum..." His voice trailed off as he saw the look of sour realization crossing their faces. Tipping his head back to gaze at the ceiling he continued as nonchalantly as possible. "She did threaten to owl home after all. And I don't know about you two but the last thing I need is mum yappin' down my neck while I'm drinkin' my mornin' pumpkin juice." A matter of fact smile slipped onto his face while he head dropped towards him. Wrapping his hands together behind his head the younger twin leaned back into his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground as his feet came down to support him. The chair squeaked in protest but George simply ignored it as he continued on with his convincing.

"Then again... We could just hope for the best..." When Fred's face crumpled into one of worried contemplation George knew he'd played his hand to the t.

"Or..." Trailing off seductively the somewhat scruffy ginger boy dropped forward and bent over the ink stained table, his voice dropping to a hushed tone of secrecy and planning. "I suggest we find a way to distract her. If she can't see us doing it she can't prove it was us." Making eye contact with both boys he smirked. "She's to _fair_ to accuse us of anything without proof." Lee's incredulous look had him backtracking instantly.

"She might accuse. But she won't write home without absolute proof. You know she won't." Fred nodded slowly, coming around to the idea. It would take extra planning. A few more hours taken out of homework they didn't pay all that much attention to anyway and maybe a few from sleep. In the end however it would be more than worth it. Security from Mother Weasley's wrath was always worth it.

Besides, they'd laid low ever since their birthday. Easter had rolled by without any of their usual merriment and it was high time they reclaimed their role as mischief makers. All three seventh years, although the twins especially, felt an eager itch running up their spines as their plans danced through their mind. It was going to be perfect. Absolutely, unequivocally perfect. And if they happened to burst Umbridge's nasty pink bubble or make Hogwarts' history in the process? Well that didn't bother them so much. In fact, it didn't bother them at all

_May 4th, 1996_

Racing through doorways, hidden corridors and globs of students George felt an insistent panic rising in his throat very much like a ball of sticky flubberworm mucus. Although surely not as disgusting. Twitchy eyes moved everywhere trying to catch every face, looking desperately. Everything was set to go off. Everything was perfectly planned. Some people called them disorganized simpletons with a pension for trouble and none at all for anything of importance. Those people were usually idiot Slytherins of course. And they could not have been more wrong. Fred and George Weasley were misunderstood artists. They took something as casual as a prank and turned it into something unforgettable, something that would last a generation or longer.

However their impending legacy was the absolute last thing on the younger twin's mind as he bound down moving staircases, parting students with a quick shove, ignoring their yelps of annoyance as they slammed with surprising force into walls and banisters. No George was rather preoccupied in an attempt to find something, someone. His mind wouldn't quite let him know who, only that once he did everything would be alright, everything would be settled. This thought, if nothing else, confused him more. Here he was, on the brink of Hogwarts' legendry, feeling an overwhelming desire to find an unnamed, unspecified person. Merlin he was going mad.

Rubbing sweaty palms on the outside of his school robes George bit the inside of his cheek, skidding to a halt as he darted around one last corner. With an immediate slamming of his internal breaks the ginger haired boy panted heavily, air flowing into and out of his lungs in gulping breaths. And then suddenly it made sense.

Walking out of a classroom, nose buried in a leather bound tome, a girl with bushy brown curls and a pursed lips stepped toward him. And just as suddenly George's heart skipped a beat with a stutter of pain. Closing his eyes he sighed, terrified of what he knew he had to do, before reaching out and touching her shoulder tentatively.

"Hermione?"

Waspish eyes ready for a fight dragged themselves out of her book, balancing on the edge of annoyance and anger. For one awkward moment George thought the fifth year might actually hit him. Instead her brows pulled together as her eyes immediately turned to a watery sort of guilt. Watching with reservation as Hermione closed her book and slipped it into her bag he waited.

Should he talk first? He had sought her out after all... It hadn't been a known objective but now that he stood before her, heart thudding like goblin hammers, he knew there couldn't possibly have been anyone else. Perhaps it was the fiery shame that had gradually built up in his system until he couldn't look at anything even slightly Hermione related without feeling like a total arse. Or perhaps it was the hope that he'd get an apology from her. She had, after all, chosen to only take out her displeasure on him. Whatever the reason George swallowed hard, shifted his eyes downward and decided he'd better take the plunge.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes snapped up in shock as he heard the trembling words he'd been just about to speak tumble from the witche's lips. Her own woody brown looked damp behind lowered lashes. Was she crying? About what? Was it him? Had he done something? Moving forward on instinct George wrapped Hermione in an awkward, unsure sort of hug his hands patting her back as he buried her face into his chest. Good Merlin. Maybe he did have a knack for trouble. One minute he was running around looking forward to the complete mayhem he was about the cause and the next he had a teary eyed Granger quietly trying to regain her control not a paper width away from him.

Backing up when he thought it had become uncomfortable enough George pretended he didn't see the hand she raised to wipe away whatever wetness had accumulated on her lashes. A tight squeeze yanked at his stomach as he tried once more to find his words.

"You- You don't need to apologize..." It came out as a sign, lightly dancing across the air between them, filled to the brim with remorseful resolve. Fingers curled into fists as George swallowed again, this time his pride, and leant his head down to look into Hermione's eyes. Touching her seemed like the absolute worst thing to do. Especially considering that before that hug they'd only ever touched on rare occasions after long times apart. And even then it was in a long progression of embraces that everyone was obligated to oblige to. All in all he felt he'd made the situation as embarrassing as it needed to be. Maybe even more so.

"I don't know exactly what you're apologizing for but... don't." Fierce confidence in his words blazed Gryffindor strong when he finally managed to catch her eyes with his own. Standing up straight George's hands unclenched, reaching up to nervously rub the back of his neck. He was downright terrible in emotionally charged positions. Even more so when it contained a girl. Exponentially so when the girl was his younger brother's best friend.

Moving his hand higher to scratch at the top of his head - another anxious tick - George licked his lips, moistening the suddenly dry skin to delay further tension. Although he really was only making it worse. One burst of air expelled from forfeiting lungs later and he clucked his tongue. Leaning forward a bit he almost reached out to touch her arm, changing the motion last minute into an unconvincing swing. Somewhere in the distance a bell rang causing both their heads to jerk upward in shock. Shit on Merlin's soggy ballsack. He was late. Fucking late. Colossally late. Fred was going to murder him.

Deciding it was now or never George stepped forward into Hermione's comfort zone and grabbed her back up into a bone crunching hug. Speaking into her ear he rambled, not knowing how else to tell her what he needed to say.

"I'm sorry we blew up the library. And I'm sorry we've been a bit snarky recently. I've really got to go and this is honestly the more uncomfortable I've been in a long time but I needed to tell you so you don't think we hate you or anything. You know?"

Setting a stiff and surprised looking Hermione down George grinned, his typical mischievous glint lighting up his face. Something tugged at him but he brushed it away without a thought. Oddly unsettling sensations were nothing knew when it came to the freakishly intelligent girl before him. He'd long since learned to control them. Reaching out to grab her hand George winked his signature wink before griping her securely once and running off down the hall.

Turning so he could run backward he beamed back at her, flipped around and dashed around a corner. The tingling sensations that wiggled through his hand and up his arm would have to wait. Fred was waiting. And so was Umbridge's ultimate humiliation. He couldn't miss it. Not even to figure out why he felt unexpectedly queasy. No, that would have to wait. At least for now.


End file.
